Niobe. From cruel Ph[oe]bus all my children fly.
Chorus. Fly then, oh Queen, else will they bring thee harm.
Niobe. What evil counsel is upon thy tongue?
Chorus. The counsel that would save thee from thyself.
Niobe. A mother's love should thus protect her child.
Chorus. From such protection cometh death to thee.
Niobe. Death will be welcome if it cometh thus
For naught thou knowest of true motherhood
Thinking that fear of death will drive me hence
To leave mine offspring to Ph[oe]bean darts.
The next day was Sunday, and during the night there was a heavy fall of snow, so the Garsworth folk were not a little astonished, upon rising in the morning, to find the ground white, and the sky of a dull, leaden colour. Una had seen the vicar, and, in consequence of the interview she had with him, had written a letter to Reginald, which she was enclosing in an envelope when Patience Allerby entered in order to clear away the breakfast-things. She saw that Una had been writing to Reginald, and a gleam of interest crossed her stolid face as she looked eagerly at her mistress. Una guessed her thoughts, and, knowing the woman's deep interest in Reginald, arising, as she thought, from the fact of Patience being his nurse, spoke to her on the subject.
"I am writing to Mr. Blake," she said, closing the envelope, "as I am anxious for him to return to Garsworth."
"He is all right, is he not, Miss Una?" asked Patience, anxiously.
"Oh, yes, I think so," replied Una, doubtfully, "but I have been talking with the vicar, and he agrees with me that it is dangerous for Reginald to be in London."
"Danger--from whom?"
"Mr. Beaumont."
"Mr. Beaumont!" echoed Patience, in a harsh voice. "What has he been doing to my boy?"
Una looked at her in astonishment, for the whole face of the woman seemed transformed, and instead of wearing its usual calm expression it was convulsed with stormy passions. For once the mask had fallen off, and Una recognized the terrible force of character hidden under this woman's placid exterior. The housekeeper also felt that she had betrayed herself and strove to recover her lost ground by an explanation.
"I beg your pardon, Miss Una, if I speak angrily," she said feverishly, "but remember I was Mr. Blake's nurse, and he is the only being I care about in this world--if harm happened to him I would never forgive myself."
"I hope there is no chance of harm happening to him," replied Una gently, "but he is in London with Mr. Beaumont, and from what Dr. Nestley told me about that gentleman I don't think he is a good companion for Reginald."
"Dr. Nestley," said Patience thoughtfully, "I was not aware Dr. Nestley had met Mr. Beaumont before."
"Yes, I believe he met him in London," replied Una, and proceeded to direct the envelope, while Patience thinking over what she had heard left the room.
When she had finished all her work for the day she retired to her room in order to think over the conversation. Judging from what Miss Challoner had told her Beaumont was trying to ruin Reginald, and she guessed his motive for doing so. Patience was well enough acquainted with the artist to know that he did nothing without an object, and as he had placed Blake in receipt of ten thousand a year, she foresaw that his next step would be to handle it. As he could only do this through Reginald he was trying to get the boy completely into his power in order to do what he pleased. As to Dr. Nestley's remarks, he evidently knew something about Beaumont's former life, and Patience after some thought came to the decision that she would call upon Dr. Nestley that afternoon and find out all he knew about him.
Having taken this resolution she put on her things and went out, after telling Jellicks she would come back again in about two or three hours.
Outside the snow had ceased to fall, and all the cold tints and wretched appearance of the landscape were hidden under a pure white covering. The bare branches of the trees were all laden with powdery snow, which was shaken down in white flakes at every breath of wind. The long lines of thorny hedges ran along the white surface in black lines, and here and there tall, gaunt trees stood up in startling contrast of colour. Patience, however, saw none of the beauties of winter, but trudged slowly along the half-obliterated road and thought of the perils to which Reginald was being exposed by his own father.
Then she crossed the bridge, and, glancing over the side, saw the leaden-coloured water sweeping drearily between the white banks, the sloping roof of the church covered with whiteness like an altar covered by the sacramental cloth; the heavy grey stones of the tower, and beyond the tall red chimneys of the vicarage, making a cheerful spot of bright colour against the bluish sky.
She knew that Nestley was stopping at "The House of Good Living," so went straight there and asked for him, whereupon she was shown into the parlour, before the fire of which was seated the unhappy young man, looking more worn out and haggard than ever. He started to his feet when he saw Patience and stared anxiously at her, speaking the thought that was uppermost in his mind:
"Is Miss Una ill?" he asked, thinking she had come for his professional services.
"No, sir," replied Patience sitting down and throwing back her veil, "Miss Una is quite well--I have come to see you on my own business."
"Are you ill?" he asked wearily, resuming his seat and leaning his head upon his hand, "what is the matter with you?"
"Nothing at all," she answered coldly. "My health is all right, but I wish to speak to you about Mr. Beaumont."
Dr. Nestley looked at her in surprise, with a bitter smile on his lips.
"What, you too?" he said derisively, "are you another of his victims?"
"No--I am not his victim--but, as you know, I am the nurse of Mr. Blake, who lately succeeded to the property, and as he is now in London with Mr. Beaumont I want to hear from your own lips what danger you think there is in such companionship."
"What can I say?"
"Everything; you told Miss Una your story yesterday and she said something about it to me----"
"Betrayed my confidence?"
"Nothing of the sort, sir, she merely said you did not consider Mr. Beaumont a good companion for a young man, nothing more--is it true?"
"Perfectly true. I know what Beaumont is from my own experience of him--he will drag Reginald Blake down to the lowest depths of degradation."
The woman tightened her thin lips ominously.
"I don't think so if I can help it," she said grimly.
"Then if you can help it--if you have any power over him--take Blake away from his influence or he will ruin him."
"Are you sure?"
"Sure," he repeated bitterly, "I know it only too well to my own cost, God help me! Basil Beaumont is a devil, and never rests till he makes his friends as base as himself. Blake has got money, Beaumont wants that money, and will let nothing stand in his way to procure it."
"He had better not set himself up against me."
"What do you know about him?"
"More than he cares the world to know."
"Then use that knowledge to keep him away from Garsworth."
"I don't care if he comes to Garsworth as long as he leaves my--my boy alone."
"Your boy?"
"Reginald Blake--I was his nurse--I will get him to return here, and if he marries Miss Una I don't think Mr. Beaumont will be able to do much."
"He'll do this much," cried Nestley quickly, "he'll try and prevent the marriage."
"Why?" she asked curtly. "For what reason?"
"The best of all reasons--he loves Una Challoner himself."
Patience arose to her feet with a cry, her face turned to a ghastly pallor.
"You--you--are mad," she gasped, placing her hand on her heart, "it cannot be true."
"It is true, I tell you," said Nestley in a harsh whisper, coming close to her. "Una Challoner would not listen to me because she loves Reginald Blake. Beaumont also loves her and sees Blake is an obstacle in his path, he will remove that obstacle by fair means or foul--but remove it he will--he'll obtain such power over Blake that he will get him to make a will in his favour, then--then--you can guess what will follow."
"Oh! but it's horrible--horrible--this man would never do such a thing."
"I know Basil Beaumont--you don't."
"Don't I!" she cried viciously, turning round. "I know him only too well--I was a good woman once!"
"Ah! I thought you were another victim," said Nestley cynically. "And what do you propose to do?"
"Do!" she said fiercely. "I will write him a letter and warn him once and for all--if he refuses to accept the warning I will show him no mercy--he must give up all thought of Una Challoner--she shall marry Reginald Blake and none other."
"She will never do that while Beaumont lives--I know she loves Blake, but Beaumont loves her, and what are those two innocents against his devilish craftiness?"
"He has got to deal with me as well as with them," she said grandly. "Sooner than Beaumont shall harm a hair of their heads I will end his life and his villanies at the same time."
"You would not kill him?"
"I will do what I say--if he does not accept the warning I send him, his life is in his own hands not mine."
Nestley stood silent with astonishment, while without another word, Patience swept out of the room, and then only did he recover his power of speech.
"Ugh!" he said with a shiver. "I believe she will--but no--Beaumont is a man nothing can harm--devils are sent upon the earth for some purpose, and he is one."
He crouched down over the fire, the red light of which glared upon his face, bringing out all the lines and hollows now stamped on it and making him look very old and grey. Outside, the night was closing in and he shivered again as the deep voice of the church bell rang through the keen air.
"It's Sunday," he whispered. "Sunday night--I ought to go to church. Church!" he repeated with a dreary laugh, "there's no church for me--between myself and God stands the devil of Drink."